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Leselupe.de > Fremdsprachiges und MundART
hard night
Eingestellt am 21. 06. 2002 23:23

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schumpo kaladze
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Some women have this certain characteristic to appear especially beautiful when they are in rage. Well, Robert’s wife wasn’t one of them. Robert’s wife wasn’t beautiful when she was angry. When Marlene was angry, then she was angry.

“Did you get my point, Robert?!?” she shouted. He nodded, without even realizing her words. Half an hourago, he had given up all attempts to understand anything. Or was it half a life ago? However, he was running in his “hear nothing - say nothing - just nod from time to time mode”, waiting for the storm to be over.

You know, it was just one of those evenings - a job-exhausted wife and two or three rather unattantive remarks by the husband. Basically, Robert was a caring and loving husband, but Marlene’s moods were really hard to handle sometimes.

He knew that soon this conflict was going to be over. He had survived the worst. The climax of the evening was behind him. The smell of burned photographs still irritated his nose. Robert knew the rest of the procedure by heart, and he played his part with the routine of a loving husband, by avoiding any furtther collisions or interferences.

Later in the evening, while watching a mind-emptying wresting show, Robert was trying to understand. Tommorow, it was the 3rd Saturday running, she had to work on. And yes, he hadn’t done the washing up. But, it was just two plates. Slowly, he was getting tired. Hundreds of thoughts were going through his head, before leaving.

He felt, this time, something was different. This time, when he layed down next to his wife and gently layed his arm around her shoulder, he couldn’t feel anything but an empty umeasyness. He had a hard night ahead of him.

Finally, he managed to fall asleep. He even managed to dream. He saw himself lying in their french bed, calmly sleeping, feeling Marlene’s warm body. Then, he saw himself standing up and looking irritatingly coldly at his wife. He went down, streight into the garage.

He saw himself, standing there, infront of the car, with its open hood, wearing just a pair of boxershorts. What was he doing there? He hadn’t had a clue about cars! They had chosen their Buick becouse of its ununsual blue car, not for technical reasons.

He saw himself, jumping away from the car, in pain, and sucking on his left hand’s back. He had injured himself. Oh, what a clumpsy asshole he was! Robert was seriously confused. But, as usual he gave up his attempts to understand. All he wanted was to fall asleep again.

It was 11 a.m, when he woke up. He was confused. He knew, he had an uneasy night, but he couldn’t remember anything clearly. After a long shower, he reconsidered his situation.
If he really got a move on, he could manage everything necessery to give Marlene an “I am sorry – I love you” reception. Prepare a nice lunch, buy her favourite flowers, tidy up the garden and the house...that would do it…

At 4 p.m. everything was ready. The garden, the hose, the lunch and the husband were waiting to get things streightened again.

At 4.30 p.m, Marlene wasn’t there yet. Stuck in a traffic jam, probably. Robert turned on the TV. It was time for local news.

One more accident on the MW60. They had a cam there. He saw a big car, of wonderfull blue color, dented beyond recognition. He heard the speaker’s voice “…the woman in the buick …. not stop the car…or even slow down...frontal crash….60mph…” The uneasy feeling returned, he reached for the remote control to switch the channel. His look landed on his left hand’s back, and he realized a rather fresh wound. And suddenly, he realized everything.

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